


Untitled Bonding Fic

by MonPetitTresor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Consent Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Resurrection, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't have a title for this really. It's just a Sam/Gabriel bonding fic I wrote when I was trying out the Write or Die program. This is pretty much what I came out with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Bonding Fic

After a lifetime caught up in the hunting lifestyle, Dean Winchester had finally come to a realization. It wasn’t going to be a monster or an angel or some other supernatural being that was going to be the death of him.

It was his brother.

Oh, Sam wouldn’t actively kill him, not like some people might think. He wasn’t going to go ‘dark side’ and take out his brother. And Dean didn’t mean that he was going to go off half-cocked and do something stupid like, oh, start up the apocalypse – _again_. No, none of those things were going to get Dean killed. It wasn’t going to be anything as big or spectacular as that. He wasn’t that lucky.

“That kid’s gonna give me a heart attack.” Dean growled, hands clenching tight as he stared around the ripped apart motel room that was missing one gigantic, idiotic puppy who’d been sleeping in the now demolished bed when Dean had gone out for dinner a half an hour ago. Dean growled as he took in the details. “That’s how people are gonna remember me. Dean Winchester – dead of a heart attack after his brother went missing for the _seven thousandth time_.”

What the hell could’ve happened to him in the half an hour that Dean had been gone?

The first thing he had to do was try and figure out what the hell happened here. It was obvious that someone had taken Sam, of course. The room was destroyed. The door had been open when he'd gotten back and the inside looked like the site of one hell of a fight. Things were knocked over, knocked off the wall, and the bedding was spread out with the blankets all over the place. Sam hadn't gone easily with whatever had taken him.

Only, what was it? Their hunt here in town was done and over with. There was no creature here that would be trying to stop them. So that pretty much left the two things that Dean really wished it wasn't – angels or demons. He had every faith that Sam would've stood a chance against any kind of human coming in like this. He would've raised some kind of ruckus. Only angels or demons could've come in here and made this kind of mess and then gotten Sam out of here without alerting anyone else around them.

When he got his hands on whoever had taken his brother, he was going to make them regret ever daring to be stupid enough to seemingly forget that messing with one Winchester meant messing with them both and they would stop at nothing to help the other one. He’d rip out their lungs to get his baby brother back. And then he’d kick Sam’s ass for making him worry like this, again.

Dean yanked his cell phone out and called the only being he could. It took only two rings before the phone was answered. He didn’t even give him a chance to say hello. As soon as the line picked up, he was talking. “Cas? We got a problem, man, and I need your help. How close are you to Portland, Oregon?”

* * *

It said a lot about Sam Winchester's life when he recognized the feel of something binding his wrists before he even fully regained consciousness. He was barely even awake and he knew that his wrists and ankles both were bound and he was laying there on something hard and solid that sort of screamed trouble to him. His first thought, even before he opened his eyes, was that he had been captured by witches. A coven of some sort. Only, they hadn't been hunting witches, had they? No, no, they'd been hunting a rugaru. He and Dean had...they'd killed it.

Something moved nearby and Sam's instincts kicked into overdrive. He held himself as still as possible and tried not to give away that he was awake. He should've known better. Whatever had him wasn't stupid. They realized he was awake. He knew it the instant that a hand came down over his throat and he found himself pinned down by a steeling strength that was enough to have his eyes snapping open in terror.

One look at the woman above him and it all came a crashing back in on him. He'd been asleep in the motel room when the angels had attacked. Hunters’ reflexes had been the only thing to warn him in enough time to scramble out of his bed. But no matter how good a fight he'd put up, it'd been nothing against their strength.

He stared now at the angel who had been the last face he'd seen before he'd been knocked unconscious. She was pinning his throat with ease and there was a familiar sneer that curled her lips. It was a look Sam had gotten from plenty of angels ever since they'd discovered they were actually real. Not many of them had a friendly face for the boy with the demon blood.

“Be still and do not scream,” The woman told him, “and we will not gag you. I do not wish to damage you any more than has already been done but I will do what is necessary to keep you here. Are we clear?”

With his throat being restricted and his head throbbing, there wasn't much open to him to answer with. He settled for a small nod, hoping she would be able to see it. Anything to keep from being gagged here as well as bound against whatever thing they had him on.

As soon as she released his throat he was sucking in desperate breaths. The return of proper oxygen helped Sam to finally clear his head a little more and fully take stock. Not just of his bindings, or even of his injuries – bruised ribs, definitely, and potentially a broken right wrist judging by the pain there, plus the concussion – but of the space around him. They were in what looked to be an empty field with trees off in the distance and the night sky up above them. There was more than one angel around him. He assumed they were all angels, at least. Five total, including the one who had just choked him. Three men and two women. Not that gender really meant anything to an angel.

Sam turned his head as best he could to look at the female angel who was doing, something, up near his hands. “What are you doing?” he asked her. At the same time he scolded himself. _Wow, real original question there, Sam. Real subtle, too_.

She didn't even spare him a look as she continued with his work. “It is of no import to you.”

Clearing his throat, and grimacing as it jarred his body and reminded him of just how badly his wrist was hurting, he tried not to panic too much. None of the other angels were talking. They were just standing in what looked to be a loose circle around him. “Well, I don't know. Seeing as how I'm the one bound at the center of your little circle here, I think it's kind of important to me.”

Antagonizing the angels probably wasn't his best plan. Then again, it wasn't like he could be expected to think straight right at the moment. He was doing a better job than Dean would be if their positions were reversed. His brother would've had at least three sarcastic remarks already that would've had the angels tempted to just go ahead and strangle him.

There was a part of Sam that recognized just how disjointed his thoughts were and that it wasn't really a good sign for his concussion. The rest of him was too focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

“You are finally going to be of some use.” The female angel finally said. She straightened up, looking down at the thing that he was laying on. Her eyes never really settled fully on him. They drifted instead in a circle around him, making the bad feeling Sam had grow even stronger. Then she spoke again and he forgot to pay attention to what she was doing as all his attention fixed on what she was saying. “You are going to help save us, Sam Winchester. It is only right, as you and yours are the cause of all our grief. Your sacrifice may negate some of the wrong you have done with your pitiful life.”

“Sacrifice?” Oh, hell. That was never a good word to hear. He hadn't expected to hear it from them, though! If this had been witches, yes, that would've made sense. But what exactly were angels planning to do with him that required a sacrifice?

The angel finally lifted her eyes and the smile she wore was so cold it made him shiver. “We do not stand a chance against Metatron. None of us do. Only an archangel can stand against him.”

Horror filled Sam. “No!” Despite the pain it caused him, he thrashed in his bonds. “No, you can't do this. You can't!” There was only one archangel that he could think they would need him for and there was no way he was going to lay here and let them find some insane way to call Lucifer to him. Absolutely no way.

It was scary just how easily she pinned him down once more. The feel of her hand over his throat stilled his body but it didn't stop the pleading sounds that bubbled up his throat.

She leaned down over him, the sharpness of her eyes an open threat that stole what little breath he had. “Be still.” She hissed once more. “It is not Lucifer we are calling, you idiotic human. We want to save our home, not destroy it. We are calling the only archangel who might actually care for us. It is a spell, an old spell, and never before tested. Feel privileged that you are going to be the first. When the spell is complete, grace will pour into you, filling your vessel, and you will say yes, or everything and everyone around you will die.”

That said, she straightened back up and Sam watched as she lifted something above him, her other hand still pinning him in place. She called out to the sky above her in a language that reached into the depths of Sam's mind and touched on the horrors that he tried to never let himself think about. The voices of those around them joined in and they rang high and clear in air that had suddenly gone thick and almost – electric. Sam watched in growing horror as clouds filled the sky. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled.

The hand on his throat let go and the angel stepped back from him. She pulled something from inside her pocket and Sam saw a bottle filled with red fluid. “No!” he called out, his voice lost amidst the wind that was growing stronger and stronger. Thunder rumbled even harder until Sam swore it vibrated in his bones. “Don't do this!” he screamed.

The angel tilted the bottle and flung the contents of the bottle over him and this, this altar that he was lying on. The droplets hit his skin and it felt like fire. Sam's back bowed up and a scream ripped its way past his lips.

The chanting grew louder and louder, the thunder booming around them, overtop of them, straight down into Sam's bones. “Please!” He screamed, trying to find the words, trying to breathe through it all. “Please, don't do this!”

Their voices rose up in one loud, powerful word, one name that was so far from the name Sam had expected to hear, and the sky lit up with a flash of lightning that slammed straight down from the Heavens and right into Sam's heart.

He screamed as the world shredded around him.

Sam had felt grace before. He'd felt the power of grace pouring into his body, saturating every inch of him. He'd felt it fill him and rip him apart and take him over. He'd felt Gadreel's lesser grace recently, but he knew Lucifer's grace intimately. He knew how it felt to willingly say yes and let it pour into him like liquid ice. This was...this was nothing like that. This was warmth and heat and oh, so much more! Yet, at the same time, it was wrong. So very wrong.

The grace was inside of him without him ever giving his consent, pouring right into him and taking over his body. It filled him and took over every inch, every cell, filling every single nook and cranny. Sam swore it merged with his very soul. He didn't hear his screams, didn't know that his body was straining so hard he almost managed to break free of the bonds. His wrist, only fractured before, broke fully now with the force of it.

Then, everything went dark.

The last thing he heard before he went under was the soft sound of a voice whispering inside of him. “ _Sam._..”

* * *

That voice was the first thing he heard when he became conscious once more. It wasn't whispering this time, though. It was loud and furious and rang through the air with as much force as the thunder had before. Yet, Sam felt no fear at the sound of it. There was a piece of him whispering that would never have to be afraid of that voice. It would never hurt him. _Safe_ , it whispered to him. _Always safe. Always_.

“How dare you? What gave you that right?” It screamed, the tone hitting levels Sam hadn't heard in so long, taking him back to a time when he'd heard different voices screaming at one another. “That spell has never been used, and for a damn good reason. It was deemed too dangerous even by Michael. But you idiots thought you'd use it to pull me back, without any care for the consequences. You never thought of what it might do to me or to that human lying there. You stole the choice of his consent, one thing that separates us from the demons. You took that from him and forced me inside of him!”

_I know that voice,_ Sam thought. His brain felt fuzzy, so out of sorts. Things seemed all mixed up. He was lying on something soft, it felt like, and hadn’t he been lying on a hard surface before? What was going on here? His emotions felt like they were just as fuzzy as his head, rising up and down without his control, and he couldn’t stop the pained sound that he made.

All noise cut off abruptly. The next thing he knew, warm hands touched his cheeks and Sam's body responded without his mind's permission by leaning into it.

“Sam,” That soft voice was back, low and gentle and so full of worry it had him wanting to open his eyes and reassure it just so that it would never have that sound again. That voice shouldn't sound so worried. Thumbs gently stroked over the apple of his cheeks. “Come on, Sammy boy. Open up those gorgeous eyes of yours. Everything's okay here, sweetheart. You're safe. I just need you to open up your eyes for me. You think you can do that?”

That seemed simple enough. Sam absorbed the warmth of the hands that cupped his cheeks and he made himself move a body that still felt strangely like it wasn't his. Sadly, it was a sensation he knew well, one that always came after a possession. It was like his mind and his soul had to get used to the fact that they were once more in control. Until that settled, he would feel like he was wearing a glove that didn't fit quite right. But, used to that, he managed to get it to work enough to blink open his eyes. Things were blurry for a moment and it took a few heavy blinks to get things to clear enough for him to see. When he did, the first thing he saw was a pair of amber eyes shining down at him.

Everything seemed to just click together in that moment. Sam licked lips gone dry and, in a voice hoarse from screaming, whispered “Gabriel.”

The corners of Gabriel's eyes wrinkled from his smile. “That's right, kiddo. It's me.”

“Wha...” The word cut off as Sam's throat protested and he coughed instead, which only made the aching flesh hurt even more.

Concern flashed in Gabriel's eyes and Sam felt fingers brush against his throat in a cooling touch that immediately eased the ache. He sighed in relief when the burn faded away.

“I'm so sorry, Sam.” Gabriel said lowly. They were words that Sam hadn't ever expected to hear from him. One of Gabriel's hands lifted off his cheek to smooth over his forehead and back down over the side of his face. “I'm so sorry for what I did to you. For what they made me do.”

What did they...? Oh. It came back to him in pieces then. The ritual, the spell, whatever it was the angels had done. The red fluid – blood – that had been flung over him, the lightning, the grace, going right into the core of him. But, he hadn't, he hadn't said Yes.

He saw Gabriel wince. “The spell they did... it took away your choice. It took that from you. Sam, I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Sam said. He knew it wasn't. Gabriel had had just as little choice in this as Sam had. He'd been dead. This spell, this thing, they'd resurrected him, and they'd used Sam to do it, and neither one of them had had any sort of choice. But how – how was he in his own vessel now? And how had they gotten out of that field? Because as Sam’s head cleared more and more, he became aware of the fact that it was a couch he was lying on. A couch in a rather opulent looking living room that he definitely hadn’t been in the last time he’d been conscious. How much time had lapsed since he'd been inside of Sam?

“We set off a pretty big beacon back there.” Gabriel said. “Resurrecting an archangel isn’t something that can go unnoticed. I got us out of there as quick as I could and I brought us to one of my places. Took a minute to rebuild this bad boy, too. But that’s all I did, Sam. I got out of you as quickly as I could.”

There was something in Sam that responded to the earnestness in Gabriel’s tone. He swore it was almost like he could feel the archangel’s emotions rolling off of him. But, that wasn’t possible, right?

Sam felt so different inside. Not just the usual post-possession sensation. His mind, his _soul_ , felt…different. _More._ That was the only word that Sam could think of to describe it. It felt like there was more to him now. More to the soul inside of him, more space inside of his head, just – more. And somehow all of it was connected to the being that was still crouching down beside him. If Sam prodded at that space in his head, he swore he could actually feel something there, some sense of warmth that reminded him of just a hint of what it had felt like when Gabriel had been inside of him.

As if thinking about it had given it strength, Sam felt emotions wash over him that definitely weren’t his own. It was like Gabriel was inside of him and Sam could feel his affection and concern wrapped up in a fierce protectiveness that burned so brightly and yet felt like _home_. What the hell was going on here?

Gabriel smoothed his hand over Sam's face once more and he smiled at him. Then he stunned Sam by bending down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Reassurance pulsed from that light inside of him. “Calm down, kiddo. I’ll answer what I can here in a minute. Just, let me deal with these guys and then I’ll take care of you.”

With that warning, Gabriel straightened back up and he turned once more to face the angels that were still there. As Sam looked over, he saw them waiting there, cowering before the archangel. Not that he could blame them. Even though Gabriel was in his normal vessel, so small in front of them, he exuded a power that made him seem so much bigger than he actually was. Sam watched in awe as great big, glorious wings of pure gold rose up from Gabriel's back in a display that had the angels cowering even more. What came next was a stream of what Sam now recognized as Enochian. It didn’t stop him from understanding the words. That was one gift he’d taken away from the Cage. “I understand what you did and I understand why you did it, but don’t think it excuses your actions. Not just against me, but against _him_.” One of his hands gestured back towards Sam.

“An abomination like him should be honored.” One of the male angels dared say.

It was all he managed to say. Gabriel lifted a hand and curled it tight, and the angel gagged as he dropped lower to the floor. This time when the archangel spoke, there was no denying the threat to his voice. “You watch your mouth.” When Gabriel released his fist, the angel dropped to the ground with a gasp. The air was crackling with the feeling of Gabriel’s anger. “I'm going to take him out of here.” He told them. “And if, _if_ , I decide to come back, we're going to have a damn long talk about this before anything.”

“Gabriel,” The woman who had done this, who had knocked him out and pinned him here, was practically prostrating herself on the ground in front of him. “Please! We did this only because our need is so great. Our home...”

“This is my home.” Gabriel cut in sharply. He lifted his arms, gesturing to the trees around him. “This has been my home for a long time. Don't you dare talk to me about home.”

With no more than that, he turned back towards Sam. The anger was gone from his face and his wings lost the threatening look to them. Instead, he went soft, which was an alien look for him. Sam didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know what to do at all as Gabriel stepped up to him and picked him up like he was some blushing bride, or like he was a small child who weighed absolutely nothing. “Hang on, kiddo. We're getting outta here.”

There was a soft rustle of wings and then the world around them changed.

Sam had flown Angel Air before but riding with Castiel was nothing like riding with Gabriel. The archangel flew so much smoother. There was no disorientation, no nausea, nothing at all like that. Just a perfectly smooth ride from one place to the next.

Where they landed had Sam stunned. This was his room – at the bunker. “How did you know about this?”

Gabriel very gently laid him down on his bed. His smile carried just a hint of his old smirk to it, a much more familiar look than this gentleness was. “I was inside of your noggin, Sambo. I caught glimpses of things. Enough to know you chuckleheads are setting up here now.” He didn't hesitate at all to sit down on the bed beside Sam's hip once he got the hunter settled. The flat of his hand came to rest over Sam's ribs and the ache that Sam had barely noticed now faded away. Next, he reached out for Sam's wrist. “I would've healed these while I was in there but I was busy trying to keep us both from blowing up.”

“I appreciate that.” Sam said dryly. “Not blowing up is great.” He drew his now healed wrist back and used it to help push him up enough that he could sit up. “Gabriel, what...what happened back there? What was that?”

Grimacing, Gabriel shifted, curling one leg up on the bed with him. It put a little bit of space between them as Sam sat up as well, but it also allowed their legs to brush together. It was kind of scary just how _not_ -scary that was. He should be freaking out that Gabriel was back. He should definitely be freaking out about the whole possession thing, or how comfortable he felt with Gabriel here, or this strange connection thing that was getting stronger and stronger by the minute. All of that should be scaring him. Yet all he could think of was how amazing it was to look over and see Gabriel sitting there. To know that he was here, really here. Sam wasn't scared or freaked out. He felt, calm. Calmer than he had in such a long, long time.

“That, was a spell.” Gabriel said slowly. He tilted his head in a gesture that was more reminiscent of Castiel than of him and then he sighed. “It's an old one. I don't even know how they managed to get their hands on something like that. They shouldn't have been able to. Michael locked up the particulars of it a long time ago because he decided it was way too dangerous to even being to attempt. It's a way of resurrecting an angel using a vessel. Only, it's not meant for the vessel's soul to survive. It's meant to sort of use that soul as fuel. Like, a kick start.”

The idea of that made Sam shiver. He reached up with one hand to absently rub over his chest where the lightning had struck him. “Then how am I alive? Does it have something to do with,” He didn’t know the words to describe what he wanted and ended up just gesturing between them in the hopes that Gabriel would understand. Apparently it was enough. The archangel looked a little amused but mostly he looked worried and confused – a look that was strongly echoed with the growing light inside of him. “This connection?” Gabriel asked, just a hint of his amusement bleeding into his voice. “Yeah. Whatever this is, it...your soul should've burned up when I went in you, Sammy. It should've been like fuel to my fire and burned away completely. Instead, we sort of...”

“Merged.” Sam finished softly. He remembered that feeling, the way it had felt like Gabriel's grace had become a part of him. Stunned wonder lit him up inside. Even as he was afraid, there was a sort of awe there, a feeling of amazement.

That feeling must've transferred over whatever this thing was, this bond, because Gabriel was smiling at him again. “Yeah. We're so twined together now I don't even know how to begin to try and separate us.”

The thought of separating put a sick feeling down low in Sam's stomach. The light inside of him pulsed and Sam swore it was protesting right along with him. “What,” He had to pause and clear his throat to try and make his voice work. “So does this mean that I have, ah, that I have grace in me?”

“You're as good as half angel now.” Gabriel answered him seriously.

His words had Sam gaping. “But, I don't, I'm not - I don't feel like that! Should I feel, something?” Sam's brain scrambled to try and wrap around this all. It was so much – too much. It was insane!

“I don't know.” The words sounded like they'd been forced from Gabriel, like he didn't want to admit to that. He shrugged casually yet the thing, the bond, gave away just how much this was bothering him. “I don't know what to expect here, kiddo. This is uncharted territory. There's nothing out there that I've ever heard of to describe whatever thing we've got going on here. I just know what I can see, and what I can see is that a good half of my grace is slowly filling you up.” He paused and then said, softer, “Just like a good half of your soul is in here, with me.” He laid a hand flat over his own chest.

Half of his soul... Sam gaped at him. “So you're saying we've, what? That we've merged into one great big grace-soul thing that's just split into two bodies?”

“Pretty much.”

How did that work? Sam sat back against the headboard and just stared at his companion. How on earth was this possible? This didn't make any sense. Rightfully, he should be dead. He knew that deep down to the very core of him. He knew that Gabriel was right and that he shouldn't have survived this. Yet here they were, sitting on his bed staring at one another, and there was half of Gabriel's grace in here with him and half of his soul in there with Gabriel. How did that even work? How could his soul out of all of them not have burned up at the purity of Gabriel's grace? His soul should've been too dark, too damaged, for something like this to work.

A sudden fierce protectiveness slammed into Sam so sharply it left him gasping and his eyes going wide. The next second Gabriel was right there in his face, one hand pressing flat over his chest, and the archangel was growling at him. “Your soul is one of the most amazing things I've ever seen, Sam Winchester, and don't you _dare_ doubt that. The things you've done and the things done to you have left their scars, but you've overcome them, you've made yourself better, and your soul shines even brighter for it all. Don't you dare sit there and think yourself something unworthy!”

“Gabriel.” Sam breathed his name out like a prayer. He closed his eyes as Gabriel leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. They sat there, breathing one another in, feeling the connection of grace and soul between them as it grew stronger and deeper with each passing second. What it would mean for them, neither one had any idea. What kind of side effects and consequences would come from this? What would happen to them?

“We’ll figure it out, Samshine.” Gabriel murmured. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.”

His lips brushed lightly over Sam’s and it felt right. It felt more perfect than anything Sam had known. This being that Sam had once hated, one who he had come to slowly long for in their random meetings even as he’d hated the lessons he’d taught them, one who had died for them and who Sam had grieved over. It should’ve been strange. It should’ve been terrifying. So why did it feel so right? He breathed in the scent of cinnamon and chocolate and ozone that seemed to cling to him and it tasted like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Reviews are golden, folks :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr under thequeervet (grins)


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